Maybe if my Heart Stops Beating
by jemmy9
Summary: In a world of masks and lies, how can you be surprised when you're betrayed? AU.
1. Chapter 1

Maybe if my heart stops beating it won't hurt this much.

It's amazing how much more desirable something can become, when you're told you can't have it. The unattainable. It's not often you hear the word no, or are told you can't have something. Your life has been one of privilege and excess, never wanting for anything.

But you can't have him, and now he's all you want.

These parties are always the same. The grown ups gathering in their little groups to either gossip or talk business as soon as the event begins. Champagne flows like water and all you can see are fake smiles plastered on everyone's faces. You're sure some of them are probably genuine, and if you bothered to put down your glass of champagne and take a closer a look for more than 3 seconds you'd easily be able to spot them. But sincerity is rare with this crowd. Even those who start out that way usually have it beaten out of them over time. It's the only way you learn to survive. Know your place, and be ruthless when necessary.

He's always at the same events. Both children of society, it's impossible to escape them. But the open bar keeps you entertained, until you find some other way to better occupy your time.

Your families have been not so secretly praying you will get together virtually your entire life. Talks of wedding at the cape and business mergers have been around almost as long as you have. This remains the reason you run in different circles and avoid each other by all means necessary. The last thing either of you want is to give your families the satisfaction of getting what they want.

So with the exception of a polite smile or hello, and the occasional hidden drunken flirting you've managed to avoid each other publicly, for the most part. But here you both are. No dates. No friends. No entertainment for miles. And you're each the only thing the other can't have. Temptation is a wonderful thing. You know it's all just a game. The smiles and hellos are full of tension, never lacking in attraction. Once the alcohol starts to flow you can often be found in a back room talking and flirting, or skinning dipping if you manage to find a pool.

But the clock always inevitably strikes midnight and you're forced to return to your lives, pretending the other doesn't exist, preventing a future of doilies and misery.

"Shot for your thoughts?" A smile immediately graces your features as he stands coolly behind you, his lips resting just millimeters from your ear.

"I'm pretty sure it's supposed to be a penny for your thoughts, but you know me, I'm up for anything." He knows it's true. He was there the first time you got smashed and proceeded to table dance. He was there the first time you decided it would be a good idea to go skinny dipping. He was there the night you wanted to have sex for the first time. He's been there for it all. And yet to the world you're strangers.

"That I do." He quips as you turn to face him. Clad in an expensive black suit, he never looks anything but gorgeous, and he knows it. You eye the drink in his hand; he's never without one at these parties, neither are you. It would be unladylike for you to be seen drinking scotch though, and it's not really your drink of choice anyway. So you sip slowly on your champagne, masking how much you actually drink.

Out of the corner of your eye you can see your grandmother get closer, mingling with various couples. You know exactly the thoughts that would run through her mind if she saw you with Logan. Wedding bells would ring and the whole event would be planned before she even reached you. A truly terrifying and sickening thought.

You cough lightly, code for when you're potentially cornered. Not even a second has passed before Logan has disappeared back into the crowd, leaving you alone again. You make your way to the bar in need of another drink, and also in an attempt to avoid your grandmother. She's been particularly nosy of late and you don't feel like another lecture about your lack of a date.

"Vodka martini please." The bartender doesn't even question your age, but why would he? He looks pretty happy in his job, and refusing the youngest Gilmore a drink at a party thrown by Emily Gilmore would definitely send him packing in the most painful of ways. You can see Logan leaning lazily on the other side of the bar, holding your gaze whilst sipping his scotch, the smallest of smirks on his lips. You thank the bartender politely when he returns with your drink, raising the glass ever so slightly in Logan's direction before drinking it quickly.

-

The balcony outside the ballroom allows you a much needed escape from the hordes of society barbies inside. You're not exactly dressed appropriately for the cool autumn air that hits you, your simple black cocktail dress providing you with little warmth.

It isn't long before he joins you outside, not saying anything as he leans against the balcony rail next to you. This game has been going on for as long as you can remember and it's at moments like this where you find yourself not wanting to play. For it to no longer be a game. But those thoughts vanish quickly when you think of the consequences attached to them. And besides, it takes two to stop the game. He likes the chase, the danger and the idea of rebelling against his preordained life. Deep down you do to, but lately you've been struggling to see the line between your nature to rebel against all that is planned for you, and your desire to actually be with him.

You keep telling yourself you don't want him just because you can't have him, even though in some ways you've had him for years now. You were 13 when you both fully realised what was to come if you remained close. It wasn't until 15 when you really started to distance yourselves though. And by that stage you'd already shared so many things, there was no breaking the tie. So your 'relationship' became a series of drunken indiscretions, hidden smiles and hidden feelings, all in the name of distancing yourselves from 'the plan'.

"Penny for your thoughts?" He questions, staring lazily at you. He can read you like a book.

"I thought we were doing shots." You joke, he smirks and returns his gaze to the expansive yard beneath you.

"Given that it's 10.37pm I'm assuming you're already passed your limit, as per usual."

"You know me too well."

"There's no such thing."

You ponder his comment. Is there such a thing as knowing someone too well? If that's true, than you would certainly fall into that category. There isn't anything you don't know about each other, which has both advantages and disadvantages. You can't lie. But you've never really needed to, there's a never been a point. Now you find yourself wanting to hide those thoughts of a night that doesn't end at midnight. They're dangerous.

"No date this evening Huntzburger? You losing your touch?" You finish off your glass of champagne, liquid courage to drown out the nose in your head.

"Never. I just didn't want to waste a precious conquest on this boring shindig."

"Sounds to me like you couldn't get a date. Gone through all the girls at Yale already?"

"Well, you know me." He's response says more than he thinks. You do know him. Which is why you find it strange he's here without a date, or at least one of his sidekicks.

"Seriously Logan." He waits longer than is consider polite before finally turning to you, giving you his full attention.

"Just felt like spending the night with you, and just you. Not interruptions."

"You mean besides our parents and grandparents watching us like hawks, waiting for the marriage of the century?" He's telling you what you want to hear and yet you can't help but be sarcastic and distant, it's how you've been raised to be. He may be the only thing that you want, but you wouldn't have the first clue how to let him in. You've got barriers up, and they aren't the kind to come down easily.

"Of course, besides them." He's doing his best to read your vacant expression, trying to see what's going through your head before he jumps out on any limbs. "We've been dancing around each other for 4 years Ace. How long can we keep dancing?"

"You keep talking like that and we'll be dancing at a wedding in no time." You shift your focus from him to anything else you can spot in the garden below you.

There a few people wandering around, taking in the beautiful flowers and statues imported from god knows where. There's even a couple hidden away in a corner kissing. How sweet. You wish you could believe in such romance. They look so happy to be with each other, barely coming up for air. The fairy lights scattered around the expertly groomed garden provide them with the perfect getaway, shrouding them in almost darkness. Almost.

"Oh my god." The words come out as barely a whisper. You feel like all the air in your body has been knocked out of you as the couple step into the glow of a cluster of fairy lights. They look so content, not at all guilty. Smiles on their faces, the genuine kind.

"What's up Ace?" His words sound a million miles away. All you can do is focus on them as they discreetly make their way back to the party, clearly not wanting to part. "Rory?" He grabs hold of your arms and turns you to face him, his own face covered with concern. "What's wrong?"

Now's your chance to be open and honest. To stop playing games. To stop playing the part of spoilt society girl. To let him in.

"Nothing, I just realised I've been drink deprived for far too long." You spin on your heals and make your way back inside before he can even stop you. He wouldn't understand. He'd just think you were stupid for getting upset, after all, what more can you expect from the society game? Fidelity is a lie at the best of times. When everyone's eyes are on you, and you've been forced into marriages with people you barely know, how can anyone be expected to be faithful? The odds aren't good.

Your journey to the bar is a blur, ignoring the pleasantries being spouted by various passersby. Usually shots are done in the privacy of a back room, avoiding the judgmental stairs of society, but you don't care. You haven't had anywhere near enough to drown it out. To forget.

"2 shots of tequila please." The bartender raises his eyebrow at you, knowing full well that you're breaking a key rule, but he gets them for you anyway. The liquid burns your throat, but you don't care, it's a welcome distraction. You can't drink them quick enough.

"Rory what are you doing?" You don't want to turn around and face him, not now. How can you? "Rory?" But he won't leave.

"Hi." He eyes you carefully, taking in the empty shot glasses on the bar behind you. But your eyes don't meet his. You're afraid of what you might see.

"Think maybe it's time you slowed down?" A bitter chuckle escapes your lips. How can you take him seriously? All you want to do is yell at him. Beg him to explain himself. Make him realise what he's sacrificing. You can see your mother other his shoulder, talking animatedly with someone. It will kill her. They were meant to be 'the' couple. You couldn't do that to her.

"You're right daddy. I'm just going to go get some fresh air in the garden. Is it nice out there?" You're eyes finally lock with his, their glare betraying your sugary sweet voice. He falters. Fear creeping into his perfected smile.

"Just looked like a garden to me." He forces a chuckle that reeks on insincerity. He kisses you on the cheek. "I'll see you later kiddo." He disappears into the crowd and it takes all your energy not to throw a glass at him.

"Ace?" You can't help but wonder how long he's been standing there. He has a habit of always just appearing, never missing a crucial moment. Why would this one be any different? But you jump at the chance to forget the evening, even just for a little while. You turn quickly on your heals to face him, a mischievous smile gracing your features.

"Let's get out of here." If he's surprised at your suggestion he doesn't show. Deep down you know he is. You're up and down like a yoyo tonight. But you know he won't pass up the opportunity.

"Back room, 5 minutes?" You smirk and nod, watching him fade into the crowd. You can always count on him to just go with the flow, not question your need to be reckless. Glancing around the room, you take it all in. Couples dancing. They look happy. You can't help but wonder if they are. And if they aren't, why do they bother?

Your parents twirl around the floor like experts. Years of practice. You used to think there was no other couple like your parents. That they had what the rest of society didn't. Real love. You can't believe how wrong you were.

You make your way to the exit, hoping you aren't noticed by anyone. But you notice her. She's pretty. You didn't get a good look at her before, but now, under the harsh ballroom lights, she's all you can see. You've seen her at some of these events before. If you remember correctly she's the much younger wife of one of father's associates. Figures.

You run from the room, unable to stand looking at her. To see the woman that's about to destroy your family. Logan's waiting for you when you reach the back room. You've pulled him into a kiss before he can even speak.

You just want to forget.


	2. Chapter 2

Life can be perfect, right? In a perfect world with perfect people where nothing goes wrong. Life can be simple and beautiful, can't it?

You've always known life was complicated. It was something you learnt at a very young age. Most kids didn't think the way you do, most people still don't now. You try endlessly to believe there's a silver lining. To be optimistic and hope for the best. But in preparing for the worst, that's all you seem to get. People who let you down. People who betray you. And people who just flat out fuck you over.

You've been told it's not like that in the real world. Just society. That this is a bubble of twisted torture. You think they're wrong though. People are people, they're like that no matter where you go. It's not something you can escape. So you do your best to survive it. What else can you do?

You don't want to move. You don't want to leave the safety of Logan's arms and return to the real world. This is fairy tale stuff. And you know that sooner or later you have to wake up. The noise outside has died down, signaling the end of the party. Pretty soon people will notice you're gone. But you still make no move to get up from the surprisingly comfortable lounge you ended up on. Wrapped in Logan's jacket, your head resting on his chest, why would you want to leave that?

The sound of your phone ringing forces you back to reality as you quickly search the ground for your purse. You find it buried underneath Logan's pants.

"Hello?"

"Hey where are you?" Your mother's voice floods through the phone. She's the last person you want to hear from.

You could tell her where you are. She knows about Logan. She's the only one that doesn't hear wedding bells at the thought. But truthfully, you can't even stand talking to her at the moment. She's done nothing wrong, and yet all you want to do is lie and hang up. Stop yourself from saying anything you shouldn't.

"I'm just catching up with some people. I'll be home late okay." You know she won't buy it. She knows you too well. Like mother like daughter. But she'll accept it. You're not a child anymore.

"Okay. I'll see you tomorrow sometime then. You're father and I have a lunch thing to go to so I might not see you till after that." You cringe at the mention of your father. You don't want anything to do with him. You wish she didn't either.

"Okay. Well I gotta go mum, but I'll talk to you later."

"Sure." She sounds uncertain. "Night kid."

"Night." You hang up as fast as your phone will allow you to. All you want to do is tell her. She deserves to know. She deserves to know that the man she's been in love with since she was 16 is cheating on her. She deserves the chance to hurt him in return. She deserves… someone else.

Logan is watching you carefully when you turn back around to face him. Doing his best to read you. To figure out what's going on.

"What's up Ace?" You drop your phone to the floor and begin searching for your clothes. You don't want to talk. Don't want him to know what's going on.

"Nothing, I've just gotta run."

"Gotta make curfew?" He questions jokingly, more than aware that no child of society has ever been burdened with a curfew.

"Something like that." You respond vaguely, pulling your dress back on and throwing him his jacket. "I'll see you around ok." You're out the door before he can question you.

* * *

The house is deathly quiet when you finally return home, shoes in one hand, various paraphernalia from your hair in the other. Making your way quietly up the stairs, you listen carefully for any sound of your parents. Nothing. You're free of any awkward encounters until tomorrow.

You don't even bother to get changed before falling onto your bed. The walls sway and adjust slightly, reminding you just how much you drank. It wasn't enough though. You can still remember every detail. Every moment of watching your father throw away his marriage. The thought alone forces you into the bathroom, emptying the contents of your stomach.

You wish this wasn't such a familiar scene, gripping the edges of the porcelain bowl as if there's nothing else. But this is what you've become. When did your life become this? You were barely hanging on by a thread before. How are you supposed to hold on now when the last thing you believed in has been proven to be just another lie? Your life is perfect. Everything about it is. You've got the money. The family. The friends. The looks. Everything. You want for nothing. What they say must be true, money can't buy happiness. At least it can help you disguise your misery for awhile though. If it didn't you truthfully don't think people would bother.

Crawling into the bathtub, you let yourself just lay there, thinking about the events of the evening. Logan. He disappeared pretty quickly from your thoughts when you were hit with your emotional crisis. He didn't deserve to be pushed away. But it's all just a game, right? Just fun and games.

The look of disappointment in his eyes tells you otherwise. Both when you left him on the balcony and when you left him in the back room. You're always leaving him. If you'd bothered to pay attention you probably would have noticed he'd been trying to get you to stay for ages now. But it won't work and you know it. Better to cut your losses now. Save yourself getting hurt down the track.

You're not usually so indecisive. In fact you're usually the opposite. You know exactly what you want and you go after it until you get it. But with him nothing is simple.

Your phone calls out to you from somewhere in your room, screaming at you to answer. You don't even have to look at it to know who's calling you. Dragging yourself from the comfort of the bathtub that you've grown accustomed retreating to, you search the floor of your room for the endlessly ringing object. Tucked away in the purse you discarded upon entry you finally answer on more than likely the last ring.

"I suppose I should find it cute that you always call to make sure I got home okay and didn't off myself between the country club and the Hayden Estate." You joke, letting yourself fall onto your bed.

"It just shows how gentlemanly I am, don't you think?"

"Of course. World class gentleman you are."

"If I didn't know better Ace I would say you were mocking me." You can't even see him and yet you know he's smirking.

"Why I ever do such a thing?" He laughs in response before letting a comfortable silence take over the conversation.

He always calls. After every party. No matter what. It doesn't matter if he left with someone, or if you did. He'll always call to make sure you're okay. You can't even remember when he started doing it. Back when you first started drifting. He wasn't allowed to take you home himself so he always checked.

"What are you doing right now?" You question before you can come to your senses. You can't explain it, but you need him. Need him to be there. He's the one person who really gets you and for tonight, you don't want to play games.

"I'm actually at a girl's house." Even though you should have expected his response, it hits you like a tonne of bricks.

"Oh. And here I thought you were flying solo tonight." You do your best to play off the disappointment. Your shield going back up.

"You know me, can't stay solo for long. You should see this one though Ace. She's amazing. Possibly one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen." You've never heard him talk like this and it hurts more than you'd like to admit. But that's what you get for waiting. For pushing him away.

"High praise Mr. Playboy."

"I'm not kidding though. She's perfect. She looks like a bit of a mess right now, but even that doesn't change how gorgeous she is. Lying curled up in a ball on her huge white bed, hair all over the place and no sign of make up. I can't take my eyes off her." You finger the pattern on your quilt while he talks, silently wishing he was talking about you. That he could think that way about you.

"Well I should let you go then. Can't keep you from your dream girl can I."

"Nothing could keep me from her."

"That's great." The sarcasm leaves your mouth before you can stop it.

"Sleep good okay Ace. Don't forget to take off that dress." _What? _

"Excuse me?"

"That dress is too pretty to be slept in."

"Logan where are you?" You find yourself peering carefully around your room, expecting to see a hint of him.

"Like I told you Ace, I'm at a girl's house. Remember her list of never ending qualities." He's playing. You can hear it in his voice.

"Okay, better question then, where are you at this dream girl's house? A beauty like her I wouldn't expect you to let her out of your sight."

"Of course not. She's a bit busy at the moment, taking some important phone call, so I'm waiting patiently on her balcony getting some fresh air."

"You're kidding." Before he can even answer you you're met with his grinning form leaning casually against the edge of your balcony.

"Told you the girl was beautiful Ace."

For the first time in possibly your entire life you are speechless. Your arms are wrapped around his neck in a heartbeat, your body flush against his. The world never feels as scary in his arms. Your shield evaporates and the tears you've been trying so desperately to push away finally come. And that's how you stay, sobbing into his arms, praying that come morning everything will be okay.


End file.
